And Crawling Things Lurk
Chapter 16: Tracks in the Dust

Except for the circumstances, Don could have been pleased to see Jackie as close to sober as he’d seen for a long time. He wasn’t completely sober, standing there and waiting as ordered for Ray to get back from taking Muri home, but, for Jackie, it was close. Still, although he felt sympathy for Jackie if what he claimed was true, Don couldn’t help but want to slap the back of his head.

“What the hell got into your head, anyway?” Don began as he leaned against his car. “I know you’re messed up, and I’m sorry about that, but, dammit, Jackie, Muri had no business in there. Why the hell did you take her in?”

Jackie slumped against the wall near the door standing ajar just a couple of inches and shoved his hands into his pockets. He mumbled something.

“What? I can’t understand you when you mumble.”

“Said I didn’t. She went in by herself. Found her in there.”

“Oh, you just happened to be prowling the same building at the same time, huh?”

Jackie shrugged his shoulders and slumped further. “Been looking for Josie a long time, since she got ate. I tol’ you she got ate, but you didn’t even look. So, I did.”

“Yeah, but…oh, come on, man, you can’t expect us to buy that story that someone with big teeth ate her. People come and go all the time at the Hole. She’s gone off before, you know. More’n once. She could have been anywhere. We had no reason to suspect – okay, no sensible reason to suspect that...well, I don’t know what.”

Don slipped his flashlight into the ring holder on his belt and reached back through the window to take a small jar from the glove compartment. He slung the strap of a camera over his shoulder and picked up his enclosed, aluminum clipboard.

“...Okay, here comes Ray. Remember what I said, don’t touch anything. If it is her – okay, okay, I’m not doubting you. All I’m saying is we have to handle it as a crime scene, so after you show us where she is, back off. Better yet, just leave. I’m not going to call for the coroner’s wagon until I confirm it, and then it’ll take a bit for them to get here. We’re liable to be in there for a spell, probably the rest of the day. I know where to replace you if I have any more questions. Okay? Agreed?”

Jackie stood away from the wall as Ray Edwards pulled over and stopped his patrol car at the curb. “Okay.”

“Okay, let’s do it.” Don said as Ray joined them on the sidewalk. “Bad timing you’ve got, working today. Sorry about this.”

“No, it’s okay. I could be here another five years and not get another opportunity for a body recovery...oh, sorry Jackie. I didn’t mean to...”

Jackie said nothing. He just turned and led the two officers inside.

With two flashlights, it was an easy matter to follow the trail across the dusty floor even without Jackie’s guidance. Don pointed out parallel lines of what could be from a shopping cart’s wheels bracketing footprints. He was pretty sure they weren’t there when he and Ray found Be-Be. The reek he associated with Be-Be was there, and it grew stronger as they went away from where he had found the dog and deeper into the building. He hadn’t explored any deeper at that time, so he couldn’t say if the stink went farther then or not. If it had been a homicide investigation instead of a dead dog, he would have, but now he had to just assume it was new. He didn’t like to assume.

When they entered that last hallway, Ray coughed and pulled out his handkerchief to cover his nose. Don scooped his finger into the small jar of Vicks and passed the jar to Ray. Ray did the same and offered it to Jackie, but he just shook his head and kept going.

As they came out the other end and into a large room, the mound near the far side stood out clearly in the flashlight beams. The tracks on the floor with the cart tracks went to Josie, then into the hallway just beyond. With hand motions, Don indicated for Jackie to stay put and for Ray to accompany him.

The hallway was close to eight feet across and about twenty feet long, with a nine-foot, inlaid ceiling and a plush rug. It had a look more of a lobby than a hallway. Then they directed their flashlight beams into it, and the light reflected back at them as a flood of color that seemed glaringly out of place in the dinginess of the old building. The entire right wall and all the end wall not taken by a door were covered with thousands of tiny, colored ceramic tiles creating a beautiful mosaic of saintly scenes more appropriate to a Byzantine church than an abandoned waterfront warehouse. Even with decades of dust coating them, the colors were deep and vibrant. A partially open door of finely carved wooden panels and elaborately etched bronze hardware in the middle of the left wall indicated more than just another storeroom lay behind it. But the tracks went on past to the tiled wall at the end. A door with a small window mostly boarded over took up the left side of that wall. Three other boards nailed across it secured the door to the interior frame and, from the undisturbed coating of dust and cobwebs over all, appeared to have been that way for a long time. He peeked between the window boards and observed it was an exterior door with a roof-high rocky wall abutting the building just right of the door and extending away from the building thirty feet or so, creating a sheltered entryway outside the door. With a bit of knocking and pushing on a number of the tiles, he satisfied himself that the tiled walls were just walls. He and Ray went through the partially open door and found a large, office suite still filled with very old, but what looked to be very fine furniture, even in the outer, secretary’s office. In the actual executive office, behind a large, ornate desk, a large window, also boarded over, overlooked a tree-studded field to the south across which a long-unused boardwalk wended beneath tall weeds from the distant mansion to the exterior door at the end of the hallway. With no sign of a cart, they rejoined Jackie.

After Don had Jackie point out just where he and Muri had walked, he said, “Okay, we’ll take it from here. Go on home.”

“I tol’ ya!” Jackie burst out. His hands held rigid at his sides curled into fists that curled inwards as his entire body tensed. “I tol’ ya, but you wouldn’t listen to me. Why’nt ya look for her?”

With a shake of his head, Don waived Ray back when he started to reach for Jackie.

Jackie’s fists rose to each side of his head and pressed against his temples. In the reflected light of the powerful flashlights, wetness gleamed in each of his eyes. After a moment, the tension of his posture visibly diminished as he slumped in finally accepted defeat. His voice dropped to barely above a whisper, not in any apparent effort to keep its volume down but because he simply seemed to no longer have the strength to push out the words. “You shoulda looked.”

“You’re right,” Don said. His voice was tight, and he swallowed once, then again before continuing. “I should have looked. I screwed up. I won’t deny it. Although, I don’t know if I would have found her in here any quicker than you did. But replaceing her isn’t the end of it; it’s just the beginning of the next phase. So, go on home. And, instead of buying another bottle and falling back into the Hole, ask Gramma for a cup of tea, okay? She makes a pretty good brew.”

Jackie’s opening fists swiped the tears from his eyes, and he nodded.

“Ray, how about giving him a ride home? Oh, and call for the coroner when you get outside,” Don added as he glared at the flickering bars on his cell phone. “I guess it’s the metal roof over us, but I can’t get a solid signal in here. See if you can get an ETA.”

Left alone with Josie, Don knelt beside her. She was covered by the same non-pattern of fibers he had found on Be-Be, although not nearly as many. Her form was quite clear, curled into an open fetal position and held that way by the wrappings. Her clothing appeared to be in place and undamaged, so a sexual crime could probably be ruled out. Her face was clearly discernable beneath the filaments, and the look of wide-eyed terror on her face with its silent, screaming mouth was undeniable.

“What did you run into, girl? Sure seems to be the same thing that got Be-Be. Was Jackie’s claim just the DT’s, or did he really see whatever it was that put that look on your face?”

With his flashlight beam penetrating the gauzy covering, he examined as much of her exposed skin as he could without moving her. That would wait for the coroner’s deputy to do; there was no urgent need to bypass proprieties. Where the sweep of her hair fell off toward her left shoulder, he found two small, bloodless holes at the base of her neck next to her spine. They were one above the other about two inches apart, and about like what he would expect from a knitting needle or ice pick—or a set of big teeth going at her from the side. Jackie had described them as big teeth, not vampire fangs, but then what were fangs if not big teeth? Yeah, right.

With his flashlight pointed down, he let his gaze roam about the shadowy space, trying to penetrate corners that fell away into blackness. Before he could stop himself, his imagination began filling in shapes and movements. He flicked his flashlight beam back up to dispel the phantom hunching beside a large cabinet, then as quickly he swept it across the end of a short hallway where movement could have occurred, then before he realized it, all the shadows seemed to be wavering, each one off to the sides of his line of vision. His flashlight beam swept back and forth, erasing each specter as soon as it appeared but always to be replaced by others. Icy chills gripped his spine and spread outward to encompass is entire torso, back to front, and it was like a bucket of ice water had dumped over him. His breaths came in shallow, rapid puffs.

Just before he jumped to his feet screaming and running for a way out, he snapped his eyes shut and forced long, deep breaths into his lungs. After holding each one for a bit and releasing it in controlled stages, he opened his eyes again and stood. He gazed up at the line of brown skylights while feeling the tension drain out of his shoulders.

He glanced back down at Josie and muttered, “A place like this can get to you if you aren’t careful.”

He roamed about the room snapping photos wherever he looked. He recorded the tracks in the dust: those that he, Ray and Jackie had made; those that Jackie said he and Muri had made; and those between the cart tracks that went from the long hallway to where Josie lay and then to the end of the tiled hallway. There were no other signs of anyone walking or moving about. So, whatever – no, whoever had killed Josie must have brought her in the same way Jackie had led Ray and him in, left her here, and went back out the same way. Muri and Jackie both said they had heard Erica’s cart squeaking and a door close, but he couldn’t see where it could be, or where it could have gone. They must have imagined it. But, both of them? Certainly, none of them had imagined the wheel tracks in the dust. They were there. He had pictures.

So, what was it with the tiled hallway? He and Ray had confirmed the cart had not gone into the office. Maybe the killer was simply looking for an easier way out. But there were no return tracks of the cart. So where was it? He studied the biblical scenes of the mosaic, ten in all, and stunning in their beauty. What a waste to bury such art away from the public. Eight occupied the long wall, four at floor level and topped by four others, and all separated by wide borders created by more tiles simulating fluted columns, cornices and friezes. The four upper scenes were less than three feet high and were more ethereal with clouds and rays of the sun. Just one upper and one lower scene filled the end wall. He poked, pulled and prodded at the tiles on the hallway walls. They were apparently just what they seemed to be, pieces of a work of art. They gave the place a Middle East or East European feel. Maybe Vasov was from that area of the world and wanted to feel at home when he went to work. Judging from his office furniture, he had good taste and an artistic eye, and apparently lots of money. Maybe he was heavily into the church, too. But why didn’t they sell the furniture and mosaic when things started going bad for the business? Looks like a bit of money there if they found the right buyer. Then he wondered if the mansion was also full of such treasures.

He wandered back through the long hallway and all the way back to the entrance where he noted the door had crept almost closed again. He turned again and followed the course back as he tried to reconstruct in his mind the passage of Muri, then Jackie, and then the two together. He tried to do the same with Josie’s passage, apparently accomplished inside a shopping cart, propelled by who or – okay – or what? Above, the line of skylight windows with their dull brown covering above the open beam ceiling shed the only light available without his flashlight. It had to have been tricky for Muri to follow the trail – gutsy, too. He found the small room where she had described her encounter with panic amid swirling dust after which she still urged Jackie to continue the search.

When he visualized the swirling, choking dust and the panic Muri had fought off, he just shook his head.

He returned to Josie and pondered the reason for bringing her all this way from the street? Just to hide her? But, then, why leave her exposed on the floor out in a big open space like she was? She could have been stashed behind a closed door in any number of rooms. Be-Be had been left in a room, and not far from the street door, either. What was the stuff covering them? What was the stink? And what had been the cause of death? It was obvious the deaths were related, but how had they died?

Don added the final embellishments to his preliminary crime scene sketch with the room and hallway layout showing just enough of the building layout to place the scene. He’d have to do a more accurate sketch later to better locate the scene in relation to all the other rooms and hallways. It would be helpful if some kind of building plans, even if not blueprints, for the place were available, but that wasn’t likely. His mind kept going back to the short hallway, to the tracks in the dust that went nowhere. There was something about them that just didn’t make sense. He started to go back into that enclosed space when he heard footsteps approaching.

Ray was back, and he wasn’t alone.

Inspector De Leon strode into the big room with his handkerchief pressed over his nose and his shoulders hunched.

When they got closer, Ray pulled the jar of Vicks from his pocket enough for Don to see it. He raised his eyebrows in a silent inquiry. Don had to tell himself that he was a mature, professional officer of the law, not a petulant school kid. With a subtle nod, he motioned towards De Leon. Ray handed the jar to De Leon who just looked at it with puzzlement.

Don couldn’t resist. “You put a little dab in each nostril to help mask the stink. I guess the LAPD Academy missed that one.”

“Oh. Oh, yeah. I just couldn’t see what he was holding.”

While De Leon applied the Vicks, Don led him over to Josie. Yeah, sure. More likely this is your first dead body case you haven’t been able to squirm out of. “I suppose, now that there’s a human victim, you’re going to get involved.”

“Well, yeah, there is a difference between dog stealing and homicide, you know. But, why do you talk like they’re the same case?”

“Because they are. If you had bothered to look at the dog when I brought him in, you’d see the obvious similarities. Both covered by these strands, both with that awful stink, both left in this same, abandoned building.”

“Oh, Don, give me a break. They’re both covered in cobwebs because they were both dumped in here, apparently the origin of the world’s supply of cobwebs. Same with the stink. You ever stop to think that maybe this building is the source of the stink? What chemicals were used in here over the years? Do you know? Did you ever try to replace out?”

“No, Inspector, I did not. I was ordered off the case of the dead dog, and I haven’t had a chance to research it since I found Josie. Seems to me that’d be part of the investigation you’ll be conducting.”

De Leon glared at Don for a moment, then turned and knelt beside Josie. His own flashlight beam pierced the gauzy filament over her face and head. “I don’t know that this is going to require all that much of an investigation. Appears to me she was stabbed in the neck a couple of times – see, right there. And, from what I understand, the last person who saw her was also the person who claimed to have found her after spending a couple of weeks making sure everyone knew he was looking high and low for her. Did anyone ever see him actually looking?”

“Jackie? You think Jackie killed Josie?”

De Leon squatted on his heels and looked up with a patronizing smile. “It happens, Don. Even in the best families, lovers quarrel all the time. And, when they’re lowlifes to boot, like the creatures we have infesting our waterfront, quarrels can turn deadly between sips from a shared bottle. Maybe even because of the sips. You know, ’Hey, you took too much!’ Wham! Happens all the time.”

“So, that’s it? That’s your investigation? Aren’t you even going to wait for the autopsy?”

“Autopsy? Oh, yeah, I suppose we have to do one, don’t we? Big waste of funds, though. I’ll tell you what, Don. Why don’t you attend the autopsy and report back to me with anything in opposition to what is now pretty obvious. Meanwhile, you can wait for the meat wagon.” He hooked a thumb at Ray and said, “Let’s you and me go bust a killer.”

“You can’t arrest Jackie on just supposition!” Don almost screamed his protest. “At least wait for the autopsy. It’ll probably be done Monday morning unless I can’t talk ’em into doing it tomorrow.”

“Oh, so you can get the collar while I sit patiently waiting to hear from you? No, Don. As the department’s Inspector, this homicide bust is rightfully mine.” He made it half way across the big room before he realized he was alone and stopped. Looking back, all he said was, “Officer Edwards?”

There was no doubt he was pulling rank, but before Ray followed him out, he looked at Don, who gave him a tight-lipped nod. He returned it, turned and followed De Leon.

Don was fuming. Not because a man he was almost positive was innocent was about to be arrested, and not because he had been talked down to by an incompetent ass, but because a homicide investigation had been reduced to less than a quarter-hour of quick perusal of the mystery-infused corpse, followed by a few conclusions heavily jumped to, and the whole thing kissed off as involving less than worthy citizens, and so, not worth the investigator’s time. All it meant to De Leon was that it would show a cleared homicide on his track record. If a conviction was lost because the prosecutor didn’t refocus and stress the minimal evidence in just the right way to a jury, that would be on the D.A.’s shoulders.

He walked about the room, taking his deep breaths and letting these newest demons work their way out of his system. As he was passing the opening to the wide hallway, he glanced in and stopped. Turning to face into the space, he played his flashlight beam up and down the length of the floor, finally stopping it at the end. He walked along the disturbed dust, imagining pushing a shopping cart. At the end, he stopped and imagined backing up with the laden cart, and he could visualize the front wheels swiveling around to the new direction. Then, he tried to imagine the cart following him straight back, its wheels staying in the same tracks it made going in, as he pulled it back out to the entrance. He couldn’t. Even with new carts, whenever he tried to back up with one in a market aisle, especially when carrying a load, the front end always veered back and forth at least a couple of times if he tried to go more than just a foot or so. He looked for where the front wheels had swiveled and for a second set of parallel lines in the hallway dust. As the last made, they should stand out from the other tracks, but there were none. He looked closer at the cart tracks, and noted they didn’t end four or five inches from the end wall, as they would have done if the cart’s frame had bumped up against the wall. The tracks went all the way to the wall.

Repeating his earlier inspection, but with heightened scrutiny, he reached out and tapped the wall with his knuckle, then with his flashlight. It sounded about as solid as a wall constructed with studs between inner and outer walls should sound, which proved nothing. He pushed against the wall, in the center, along the left side and along the right side, along the bottom near the floor, and across the upper portion as high as he could reach. Again, it seemed as solid as he would expect a hundred-plus-year-old wall to be. He found no sign of hinges, hidden or otherwise, or anything else that would identify the wall as a door. Still, the cart tracks...

“Hello! Hey, Don, you back there?” The voice echoed through the old building like bats flitting about in a cave. Even so, he recognized it as David Banning, the deputy coroner.

He stepped back out to the end of the little hallway and aimed his flashlight beam into the tunnel of the long hallway across the way. “Yeah, Dave, back here. Just follow the light.”